Killian has glasses and he likes games. He is nine. He has trouble dealing with frustration and conflict, though he has gotten better about the meltdowns. I taught him how to breathe deep. He has two sisters. They all used to get sent to the office with lice, together. Their dad Argued No its Dandruff. He wouldnt come get them from school.

Yesterday Killian walked up to me with open arms. Fourth grade boys don't do this much. He wrapped himself around me and held on for dear life.
Lately I have noticed that I am the perfect height for little heads to rest on the curve of my hip. I hug Killian back real tight, his face warm on my side. It gives me that feeling I get like when I am jealous when I see pregnant women.

Killian sighs, he says, "My mom used to hug me"

and I say She Doesn't Anymore?

"No", he says, like this is normal, like if I asked if he liked baseball or if he wanted dessert or if it was raining out.
When Moms dont even Hug you I dont even know that to think.

Well Then I Guess We'll Have to Hug Like This Every Single Day! i reply

and he smiles goofily and pushed his glasses up his nose

and he runs off to playWizards Chess

and I stand next to the coloring table turning over how this makes me feel.

just got a phone call from my father saying that my cell phone is being cancelled at the end of the month. But if I didn't have a cell phone he could not have called me to tell me that. So the news isn't all that bad. I will just station myself at cafe vita. constantly. 

I hope the sun has some nurturing qualities.

i may have made this viewable to scary bros with guns-
so until i figure it out for sure, were blogging undercoverinsecret

whoseblog

i really want to take the time to read all of this stuff that has been posted of late, it looks really really good, it seems as though writing for real has transcended itself into blogging for real and i am very proud of you all.

i am going to take time and read these things this weekend and i am going to post a longish blog about what happened this week because it's important to get it out and not be sad and angry and to blog and let it out into the blogosphere, although i think i can't let it all out because i have a trial in october.

i loveyou all.

Story of young boy and dog.

His manor of behavior was simple enough. He gave equal opportunity to every though wave which plagued his mind. His vision was more capable at mimicking then usual. His world was one with the absolute reality which offered it governance. His name was Jacob, and he was a chocolate lab.
Jacob was born to a mother of average breed and his father, averagely enough, was “boarder line show dog” According to the owner’s of Jacobs’s mother. The pup flourished on a farm in Eastern Washington.
As expected a family of five pulled up into the very same dusty drive that belonged to Jacob’s family. The family in which Jacob did not yet belong to had pulled up in a Plymouth Voyager. The Voyager was a very terrible shade of grey and it game a certain member of the family a headache.
Headache and all the five of them looked at the pups and not the $400.00 dollars promptly handed over in exchange. One pup, Jacob, was selected. The family could not remember if they had ever heard a whimper, or what a whimper could even sound like. The family was certain that Jacob was whimpering at them because he wanted to go to his new home.
At new home Jacob found himself tied to a post with a rope around his neck. He had a spacious dog house all to himself. Years later most member of the family undoubtly viewed an advertisement with somber background music and cute pictures of young animals shown. Jacob had a sad look in his eyes, but no one was fooling anyone into believing that animals had emotion.
The family member in which grey gave headaches would run in fields of timothy hay with young Jacob. Jacob enjoyed these excursions immensely and would fill his mouth full of mice which he rooted for like a scout under irrigation piping. The timothy hay was sold to rich Japanese horse owners, for bull fighting and horse racing.
One day in is brought to the surface above generalities. Headache boy had a bb gun. There was a large tree in the back yard of the house of the family of five. Outside the boy ventured with the bb gun in either of his arms. Jacob Knew it was his lucky day. Young boy shot a bird out of a tree and young Jacob opened his licked lips as an dead thing spiraled from a branch. Neither of them had heard such beautiful crunching such as they heard on that day. Happy and proud, the boy would never hunt again. The same could not be said of the pup.
“Bad” said the father of five seeing thirteen dead chickens abstractly arranged around the dead grass if the back yard. Jacob had preformed a work of pure brilliance after tasting his first bird. He was now birdie. Jacob did like going into the garage when the family left in the van, and sometimes he would even ride in the van and he stank when he had gone into the river. In the garage the father beat Jacob for his brilliant act. The father beat his children on occasion. And this was good, because it breed respect in them. Jacob also knew it was good, and he knew that he posed no emotion so the beating was not a terrible thing. It was decided that it was a very good thing. Other members of the family in turn would give Jacob this good thing.
Jacob did many other things before he stopped doing things and started sleeping on a back porch of a new house which the family moved to later. The father of the family still feed and talked to Jacob everyday. Jacob’s Family’s house was very modern and sustainable and he thanked the divine energy that connects us all for it’s wonderful ability to bless his life. Only Jacob was old and was probably going to die soon, he had arthritis and tumors. Sometimes the one that grey gave a headache to would come home and visit. And He felt emotion towards Jacob. Jacob, of course felt nothing. His wagging tail was a natural reaction, like a man’s penis filling with blood. No emotion. His eyes did look very sad, though. And he wiped his but around while sitting and it look very comical to everyone in the family. Jacob was a “good boy”.

Fin.

A salute to meds and t.v. (again)

I am very impressed by the communicational skills exhibited by the characters on the O.C. For the past little while I have been, by and large, rather against california in general (discluding niki ). Through eliminating long drawn out dialogs, the O.C. gets to the core of many relationship dialectics that without a doubt haunt all of our lives. They replace useless circular discussion that cover the same points over, over, and over again. Ryan, Seth, Summer, Sandy, Marissa and others display a unique combination of humor, compassion, and a secret ability that was probably deveolped in califorinia. The ability to walk out. The gift to let drama happen, and then to move directly on to the next dramatic expeirence instead of just letting it linger, preventing future relationships from ever expeirencing the wonders of crying together, yelling at each other, and most importatntly, getting to know each other with great eye contact. I am trying to appropriate many of the valuable traits I have learned today, from watching 2 straight disks of the first season. i feel pretty good about having dreams and plans now. I have been a depressed skeptic for far to long.

P.S.
I think this is a hard time for all of us, bloggers-
be it police or needles or Florida.

What is important is that we stick in solidarity and remember it is only a week or so more before we reunite over sweet thoughts and overpriced dinerfood,

we will crew the fuck up and all will be well

My parents, in watching the RNC coverage on the local news, called me forth to the living room to show me the police in riot gear upon horse. "Of Course The Police Will Hit You Back Stupid!" they call to blackblockerA. I say, "Very Fair Grounds when youve got a gun and a horse"
my parents say "Do what the police tell you and you wont get hurt!"
"Why?" i ask and they glare at me like I'm stupid
and they watch a police officer spray a bunch of people and I say "Yes this was justified GrownUps!" and they say "He has a responsibility!" and i ask what this is and they say "to protect a fellow officer" and i say thats interesting and they get angrier looking

and eventually my mom says GO AWAY! and shakes her head and looks at stepdad and says Told You So
this is my exit to leave, they are only proud of me as far as the idea of me goes,
when i try to explain anything in reality its very upsetting

and i realize this was always the reaction to any developing thought i had growing up that didnt come from Fox 9
(and my conversation attempting to explain the fallacy with this network i dont even want to think about now)
so i remember watching this mexican man on trial for murder
and i remember saying i felt sorry for him because he was convicted practically before identified as suspect
and i remember my stepdad getting so angry
so so angry
yelling at me to go away "YOURE CRAZY. YOU REALLY ARE CRAZY THIS TIME. HOW COULD YOU FEEL BAD FOR HIM GO AWAY MEAGHAN GO AWAY."

It is very daunting.
parents
you dont even want to listen?



i feel so sad

updated laborday.

back in clinic. there is a very sore spot in my arm. The nurse that drew my blood most recently insited on moving the needle around while it was in my vain. Unfortunatly it was the first of many more blood draws over the next six days, and it was one that has the potential to ruin them all.
A mysterious friend came over for a few moments lastnight and played clarinet on my pourch. i was carried away. Early this morning I awoke with the need to cook hashbrowns and write a letter. I lost my magic touch on the skillet, the browns were black. baby's got a hard-on is re-uniting for a bike n' bike show on september 11th.
I hope that we all remember our favorite laborer this laborday, and try our best to work on the projects that will benifit our future of folly. I am up to episode 35 on ducktales, and there is no sign of slowing down my consumption. Logan saw a dead body a few blocks away from my appartment, and he said it was strange to see a body there. A guy tried kicking in my door a few nights ago. luckily it was locked. he had a red tank-top on, in his forties. If you see a red tanked man, blog 'bout it.
well, I'm checking out for now blog, but I am sure I will be back plenty over the next few days.

weather report: 2 weeks of crunk following september 7th, covered in a slow moving cold front.